Margaret  PrescoTf 
Montague 


This  book  is  DUE  on  fhc  last  date  stamded  below 


ENGLAND    TO 
AMERICA 


ENGLAND  TO 
AMERICA 

By 
Margaret  Prescott  Montague 

WITH  AN  INTRODUCTION  BY 
JOHN     DRINKWATER 


48096 


GARDEN  CITY  NEW  YORK 

DOUBLEDAY,  PAGE  &  COMPANY 
1920 


COPYRIGHT,  1920,  BY 
DOUBLEDAY,  PAGE  *  COMPANY 

ALL  BIOBT8  BB8EBVED,  INCLUDING  THAT  OF   TRANSLATION 
INTO  FOREIGN  LANGUAGES,  INCLUDING  THE  SCANDINAVIAN 


COPTBIOHT,  1919,  BT  THE  ATLANTIC  MONTHLY  COMPANY 


I.S-Z.B 

H 


INTRODUCTORY  NOTE 

^     THE  impertinence  of  introducing 
A  a  work  of  art,  while  it  is  notorious, 
N  is  one  to  which  few  writers  have 
the  courage  not  to  commit  them 
selves  at  invitation.     The  literary 
quality  of  Miss  Montague's  story 
does  not  need  any  sponsor,  yet  it  is 
a  privilege  to  be  the  first  of  my 
countrymen  to  give  thanks  for  so 
charming  a    tribute.     Considered 
as  an  abstract  proposition,  I  am  not 
quite  sure  that  Miss  Montague's 
analysis  of  English  character  is  at 
all  points  exact,  but  since  she  is  an 
artist  she  happily  makes  this  ques- 
N^tion  of  no  consequence.     For  the 
**  test  of  all  narrative  art  seems  to 
me,  in  whatever  form  it  may  be 


VI  INTRODUCTORY   NOTE 

cast,  is  not  whether  a  generalized 
idea  drawn  from  the  particular  nar 
rative  tallies  with  our  own  conclu 
sions.  It  is,  rather,  whether  the 
characters  in  the  narrative  have 
their  own  reality,  and  so  convince 
us  of  their  own  actions.  If,  for 
example,  someone  with  his  finger 
on  Shakespeare's  play  should  say 
to  me  that  Macbeth  in  such  cir 
cumstances  wTould  not  have  done 
so  and  so,  my  answer  would  be 
that  in  fact  Macbeth  did  so  and 
there  is  an  end  of  it.  In  its  own 
tender  and  fragile  setting  Miss 
Montague's  story  convinces  me  in 
this  way.  Whether  an  English 
family  would  have  acted  thus  is 
not  to  the  point;  all  we  know  is  as 
we  read  the  tale  that  the  Sherwood 
family  did  behave  just  so  because 


INTRODUCTORY    NOTE  Vll 

Miss  Montague  tells  us,  this  with 
the  persuasive  authority  of  her 
art.  And  as  an  Englishman  one 
is  proud  that  an  American  writer 
should  conceive  English  character 
in  such  a  way.  If  she  flatters  us  a 
little,  we  all  like  to  be  flattered 
and  we  are  none  the  worse  for  it. 
Here  is  the  disinterested  flattery  of 
a  friend,  and  every  word  said 
to-day  to  the  furtherance  of  friend 
ship  between  America  and  England 
is  one  for  which  the  world  cannot 
well  be  too  grateful.  Miss  Mon 
tague's  story  is  a  short  one,  and  if  it 
is  to  be  approached  by  an  introduc 
tion,  this  should  be  shorter  still;  I 
close  mine  with  a  word  of  thanks 
for  the  artist's  work  well  done,  and 
for  her  very  gracious  courtesy. 
JOHN  DRINKWATER. 


ENGLAND    TO 
AMERICA 


England  to  America 
i 

"LORD,  but  English  people  are 
funny!" 

This  was  the  perplexed  mental 
ejaculation  that  young  Lieutenant 
Skipworth  Gary,  of  Virginia,  found 
his  thoughts  constantly  reiterating 
during  his  stay  in  Devonshire. 
Had  he  been,  he  wondered,  a  con 
fiding  fool  to  accept  so  trustingly 
Chev  Sherwood's  suggestion  that 
he  spend  a  part  of  his  leave, 
at  least,  at  Bishopscombe,  where 
Chev's  people  lived?  But  why 
should  he  have  anticipated  any 


4  ENGLAND   TO   AMERICA 

difficulty  here,  in  this  very  corner 
of  England  which  had  bred  his  own 
ancestors,  when  he  had  always  hit 
it  off  so  splendidly  with  his  English 
comrades  at  the  Front?  Here, 
however,  though  they  were  all 
awfully  kind — at  least,  he  was 
sure  they  meant  to  be  kind — some 
thing  was  always  bringing  him  up 
short :  something  that  he  could  not 
lay  hold  of  but  which  made  him 
feel  like  a  blind  man  groping  in  a 
strange  place,  or  worse,  like  a  bull 
in  a  china  shop.  He  was  prepared 
enough  to  find  differences  in  the 
American  and  English  points  of 
view.  But  this  thing  that  baffled 
him  did  not  seem  to  have  to  do 
with  that;  it  was  something  deeper, 
something  very  definite,  he  was 
sure — and  yet,  what  was  it?  The 


ENGLAND   TO   AMERICA  5 

worst  of  it  was  that  he  had  a  cu 
rious  feeling  as  if  they  were  all — 
that  is,  Lady  Sherwood  and  Gerald; 
not  Sir  Charles  so  much — protect 
ing  him  from  himself — keeping  him 
from  making  breaks,  as  he  phrased 
it.  That  hurt  and  annoyed  him, 
and  piqued  his  vanity.  Was  he  a 
social  blunderer,  and  weren't  a 
Virginia  gentleman's  manners  to 
be  trusted  in  England  without 
leading-strings? 

He  had  been  at  the  Front  for 
several  months  with  the  Royal 
Flying  Corps,  and  when  his  leave 
came,  his  Flight  Commander,  Cap 
tain  Cheviot  Sherwood,  discover 
ing  that  he  meant  to  spend  it  in 
England  where  he  hardly  knew  a 
soul,  had  said  that  his  people  down 
in  Devonshire  would  be  jolly  glad  to 


6  ENGLAND   TO  AMERICA 

have  him  stop  with  them;  and 
Skipworth  Cary,  knowing  that  if 
the  circumstances  had  been  re 
versed  his  people  down  in  Vir 
ginia  would  indeed  have  been  jolly 
glad  to  entertain  Captain  Sher 
wood,  had  accepted  unhesitatingly. 
The  invitation  had  been  seconded 
by  a  letter  from  Lady  Sherwood — 
Chev's  mother — and  after  a  few 
days'  sight-seeing  in  London  he 
had  come  down  to  Bishopscombe, 
very  eager  to  know  his  friend's 
family,  feeling  as  he  did  about 
Chev  himself.  "He's  the  finest 
man  that  ever  went  up  in  the  air," 
he  had  written  home;  and  to  his 
own  family's  disgust,  his  letters 
had  been  far  more  full  of  Chev 
Sherwood  than  they  had  been  of 
Skipworth  Cary. 


ENGLAND   TO   AMERICA  7 

And  now  here  he  was,  and  he 
almost  wished  himself  away — 
wished  almost  that  he  was  back 
again  at  the  Front,  carrying  on 
under  Chev.  There,  at  least,  you 
knew  what  you  were  up  against. 
The  job  might  be  hard  enough,  but 
it  wasn't  baffling  and  queer,  with 
hidden  undercurrents  that  you 
couldn't  chart.  It  seemed  to  him 
that  this  baffling  feeling  of  con 
straint  had  rushed  to  meet  him  on 
the  very  threshold  of  the  drawing 
room,  when  he  had  made  his  first 
appearance. 

As  he  entered,  he  had  a  sudden 
sensation  that  they  had  been  await 
ing  him  in  a  strained  expectancy, 
and  that,  as  he  appeared,  they 
adjusted  unseen  masks  and  began 
to  play-act  at  something.  "But 


8  ENGLAND   TO   AMERICA 

English  people  don't  play-act  very 
well,"  he  commented  to  himself, 
reviewing  the  scene  afterward. 

Lady  Sherwood  had  come  forward 
and  greeted  him  in  a  manner  which 
would  have  been  pleasant  enough 
if  he  had  not,  with  quick  sensitive 
ness,  felt  it  to  be  forced.  But  per 
haps  that  was  English  stiffness. 

Then  she  had  turned  to  her  hus 
band,  who  was  standing  staring 
into  the  fireplace,  although,  as  it 
was  June,  there  was  no  fire  there 
to  stare  at. 

"Charles,"  she  said,  "here  is 
Lieutenant  Gary";  and  her  voice 
had  a  certain  note  in  it  which  at 
home  Gary  and  his  sister  Nancy 
were  in  the  habit  of  designating 
"  mother  -  making  -  dad  -  mind  -his  - 
manners." 


ENGLAND   TO   AMERICA  9 

At  her  words  the  old  man — and 
Gary  was  startled  to  see  how  old 
and  broken  he  was — turned  round 
and  held  out  his  hand.  "How 
d'you  do?"  he  said,  jerkily;  "how 
d'you  do?"  and  then  turned  ab 
ruptly  back  again  to  the  fireplace. 

"Hello!  What's  up!  The  old 
boy  doesn't  like  me!"  was  Gary's 
quick,  startled  comment  to  him 
self. 

He  was  so  surprised  by  the  look 
the  other  bent  upon  him  that  he 
involuntarily  glanced  across  to  a 
long  mirror  to  see  if  there  was 
anything  wrong  with  his  uniform. 
But  no,  that  appeared  to  be  all 
right.  It  was  himself,  then — or 
his  country;  perhaps  the  old  sport 
didn't  fall  for  Americans. 

"And   here    is    Gerald,"    Lady 


10          ENGLAND   TO  AMERICA 

Sherwood  went  on  in  her  low,  re 
mote  voice,  which  somehow  made 
the  Virginian  feel  very  far  away. 

It  was  with  genuine  pleasure, 
though  with  some  surprise,  that  he 
turned  to  greet  Gerald  Sherwood, 
Chev's  younger  brother,  who  had 
been,  tradition  in  the  corps  said, 
as  gallant  and  daring  a  flyer  as 
Chev  himself,  until  he  got  his  in 
the  face  five  months  ago. 

"I'm  mighty  glad  to  meet  you," 
he  said,  eagerly,  in  his  pleasant, 
muffled  Southern  voice,  grasping 
the  hand  the  other  stretched  out, 
and  looking  with  deep  respect  at 
the  scarred  face  and  sightless  eyes. 

Gerald  laughed  a  little,  but  it 
was  a  pleasant  laugh,  and  his 
hand-clasp  was  friendly. 

"That's  real  American,  isn't  it?" 


ENGLAND   TO   AMERICA          11 

he  said.  "I  ought  to  have  re 
membered  and  said  it  first.  Sorry." 

Skipworth  laughed,  too.  "Well," 
he  conceded,  "we  generally  are 
glad  to  meet  people  in  my  country, 
and  we  don't  care  who  says  it  first. 
But,"  he  added,  "I  didn't  think  I'd 
have  the  luck  to  find  you  here." 

He  remembered  that  Chev  had 
regretted  that  he  probably  would 
n't  see  Gerald,  as  the  latter  was  at 
St.  Dunstan's,  where  they  were 
reeducating  the  blinded  soldiers. 

The  other  hesitated  a  moment, 
and  then  said,  rather  awkwardly, 
"Oh,  I'm  just  home  for  a  little 
while;  I  only  got  here  this  morning, 
in  fact." 

Skipworth  noted  the  hesitation. 
Did  the  old  people  get  panicky  at 
the  thought  of  entertaining  a  wild 


12          ENGLAND   TO  AMERICA 

man  from  Virginia,  and  send  an 
SOS  for  Gerald,  he  wondered. 

"We  are  so  glad  you  could  come 
to  us,"  Lady  Sherwood  said,  rather 
hastily,  just  then.  And  again  he 
could  not  fail  to  note  that  she  was 
prompting  her  husband. 

The  latter  reluctantly  turned 
round,  and  said,  "Yes,  yes,  quite 
so.  Welcome  to  Bishopscombe, 
my  boy,"  as  if  his  wife  had  pulled 
a  string,  and  he  responded  me 
chanically,  without  quite  knowing 
what  he  said.  Then,  as  his  eyes 
rested  a  moment  on  his  guest,  he 
looked  as  if  he  would  like  to  bolt 
out  of  the  room.  He  controlled 
himself,  however,  and,  jerking 
round  again  to  the  fireplace,  went 
on  murmuring,  "Yes,  yes,  yes," 
vaguely — just  like  the  dormouse 


ENGLAND   TO   AMERICA          13 

at  the  Mad  Tea-Party,  who  went  to 
sleep,  saying  "Twinkle,  twinkle, 
twinkle,"  Gary  could  not  help 
thinking  to  himself. 

But,  after  all,  it  wasn't  really 
funny,  it  was  pathetic.  Gosh,  how 
doddering  the  poor  old  boy  was! 
Skipworth  wondered,  with  a  sud 
den  twist  at  his  heart,  if  the  war 
was  playing  the  deuce  with  his 
home  people,  too.  Was  his  own 
father  going  to  pieces  like  this, 
and  had  his  mother's  gay  vivacity 
fallen  into  that  still  remoteness  of 
Lady  Sherwood's?  But  of  course 
not!  The  Carys  hadn't  suffered 
as  the  poor  Sherwoods  had,  with 
their  youngest  son,  Curtin,  killed 
early  in  the  war,  and  now  Gerald 
knocked  out  so  tragically.  Lord, 
her  thought,  how  they  must  all 


14          ENGLAND   TO   AMERICA 

bank  on  Chev !  And  of  course  they 
would  want  to  hear  at  once  about 
him.  "I  left  Chev  as  fit  as  any 
thing,  and  he  sent  all  sorts  of 
messages,"  he  reported,  thinking 
it  more  discreet  to  deliver  Chev's 
messages  thus  vaguely  than  to 
repeat  his  actual  care-free  remark, 
which  had  been,  "Oh,  tell  'em  I'm 
jolly  as  a  tick." 

But  evidently  there  was  some 
thing  wrong  with  the  words  as 
they  were,  for  instantly  he  was 
aware  of  that  curious  sense  of 
withdrawal  on  their  part.  Hastily 
reviewing  them,  he  decided  that 
they  had  sounded  too  familiar 
from  a  stranger  and  a  younger  man 
like  himself.  He  supposed  he 
ought  not  to  have  spoken  of  Chev 
by  his  first  name.  Gee,  what 


ENGLAND   TO   AMERICA          15 

sticklers  they  were!  Wouldn't 
his  family — dad  and  mother  and 
Nancy — have  fairly  lapped  up  any 
messages  from  him,  even  if  they 
had  been  delivered  a  bit  awk 
wardly?  However,  he  added,  as  a 
concession  to  their  point  of  view, 
"But  of  course  you'll  have  had 
later  news  of  Captain  Sherwood." 

To  which,  after  a  pause,  Lady 
Sherwood  responded,  "Oh,  yes," 
in  that  remote  and  colourless  voice 
which  might  have  meant  anything 
or  nothing. 

At  this  point  dinner  was  an 
nounced. 

Lady  Sherwood  drew  her  hus 
band  away  from  the  empty  fire 
place,  and  Gerald  slipped  his  arm 
through  the  Virginian's,  saying 
pleasantly,  "I'm  learning  to  carry 


16          ENGLAND   TO   AMERICA 

on  fairly  well  at  St.  Dunstan's, 
but  I  confess  I  still  like  to  have  a 
pilot." 

To  look  at  the  tall  young  fellow 
beside  him,  whose  scarred  face  was 
so  reminiscent  of  Chev's  untouched 
good  looks,  who  had  known  all 
the  immense  freedom  of  the  air, 
but  who  was  now  learning  to  carry 
on  in  the  dark,  moved  Skipworth 
Gary  to  generous  homage. 

;<You  know  my  saying  I'm  glad 
to  meet  you  isn't  just  American," 
he  said,  half  shyly,  but  warmly. 
"It's  plain  English,  and  the 
straight  truth.  I've  wanted  to 
meet  you  awfully.  The  oldsters 
are  always  holding  up  your  glorious 
exploits  to  us  newcomers.  Withers 
never  gets  tired  telling  about  that 
fight  of  yours  with  the  four  enemy 


ENGLAND   TO  AMERICA          17 

planes.  And  besides,"  he  rushed 
on,  eagerly,  "I'm  glad  to  have  a 
chance  to  tell  Chev's  brother — 
Captain  Sherwood's  brother,  I 
mean — what  I  think  of  him.  Only, 
as  a  matter  of  fact,  I  can't,"  he 
broke  off  with  a  laugh.  "I  can't 
put  it  exactly  into  words,  but  I 
tell  you  I'd  follow  that  man 
straight  into  hell  and  out  the  other 
side — or  go  there  alone  if  he  told 
me  to.  He  is  the  finest  chap  that 
ever  flew." 

And  then  he  felt  as  if  a  cold 
douche  had  been  flung  in  his  face, 
for  after  a  moment's  pause  the 
other  returned,  "That's  awfully 
good  of  you,"  in  a  voice  so  distant 
and  formal  that  the  Virginian 
could  have  kicked  himself.  What 
an  ass  he  was  to  be  so  darned  en- 


18          ENGLAND   TO   AMERICA 

thusiastic  with  an  Englishman! 
He  supposed  it  was  bad  form  to 
show  any  pleasure  over  praise  of 
a  member  of  your  family.  Lord, 
if  Chev  got  the  V.C.,  he  reckoned 
it  would  be  awful  to  speak  of  it. 
Still,  you  would  have  thought 
Gerald  might  have  stood  for  a 
little  praise  of  him.  But  then, 
glancing  sideways  at  his  com 
panion,  he  surprised  on  his  face  a 
look  so  strange  and  suffering  that 
it  came  to  him  almost  violently 
what  it  must  be  never  to  fly  again; 
to  be  on  the  threshold  of  life,  with 
endless  days  of  blackness  ahead. 
Good  God !  How  cruel  he  had  been 
to  flaunt  Chev  in  his  face!  In  re 
morseful  and  hasty  reparation  he 
stumbled  on,  "But  the  old  fellows 
are  always  having  great  discussions 


ENGLAND   TO  AMERICA          19 

as  to  which  was  the  best — you  or 
your  brother.  Withers  always 
maintains  you  were." 

"Withers  lies,  then!"  the  other 
retorted.  "I  never  touched  Chev 
— never  came  within  a  mile  of 
him,  and  never  could  have." 

They  reached  the  dinner  table 
with  that,  and  young  Gary  found 
himself  bewildered  and  uncom 
fortable.  If  Gerald  hadn't  liked 
praise  of  Chev,  he  had  liked  praise 
of  himself  even  less,  it  seemed. 

Dinner  was  not  a  success.  The 
Virginian  found  that,  if  there  was 
to  be  conversation,  the  burden  of 
carrying  it  on  was  upon  him,  and 
gosh!  they  don't  mind  silences  in 
this  man's  island,  do  they?  he 
commented  desperately  to  himself, 
thinking  how  different  it  was  from 


20          ENGLAND   TO   AMERICA 

America.  Why,  there  they  acted 
as  if  silence  was  an  egg  that  had 
just  been  laid,  and  everyone  had 
to  cackle  at  once  to  cover  it  up. 
But  here  the  talk  constantly  fell 
to  the  ground,  and  nobody  but 
himself  seemed  concerned  to  pick 
it  up.  His  attempt  to  praise  Chev 
had  not  been  successful,  and  he 
could  understand  their  not  wanting 
to  hear  about  flying  and  the  war 
before  Gerald. 

So  at  last,  in  desperation,  he 
wandered  off  into  descriptions  of 
America,  finding,  to  his  relief,  that 
he  had  struck  the  right  note  at 
last.  They  were  glad  to  hear 
about  the  States,  and  Lady  Sher 
wood  inquired  politely  if  the  In 
dians  still  gave  them  much  trouble; 
and  when  he  assured  her  that  in 


ENGLAND   TO  AMERICA          21 

Virginia,  except  for  the  Pocahontas 
tribe,  they  were  all  pretty  well 
subdued,  she  accepted  his  state 
ment  with  complete  innocency. 
And  he  was  so  delighted  to  find 
at  last  a  subject  to  which  they  were 
evidently  cordial,  that  he  was 
quite  carried  away,  and  wound  up 
by  inviting  them  all  to  visit  his 
family  in  Richmond  as  soon  as 
the  war  was  over. 

Gerald  accepted  at  once,  with 
enthusiasm;  Lady  Sherwood  made 
polite  murmurs,  smiling  at  him  in 
quite  a  warm  and  almost,  indeed, 
maternal  manner.  Even  Sir 
Charles,  who  had  been  staring  at 
the  food  on  his  plate  as  if  he  did 
not  quite  know  what  to  make  of 
it,  came  to  the  surface  long  enough 
to  mumble,  "Yes,  yes,  very  good 


22          ENGLAND   TO  AMERICA 

idea.  Countries  must  carry  on 
together-  What?'* 

But  that  was  the  only  hit  of  the 
whole  evening,  and  when  the  Vir 
ginian  retired  to  his  room,  as  he 
made  an  excuse  to  do  early,  he  was 
so  confused  and  depressed  that  he 
fell  into  an  acute  attack  of  home 
sickness. 

Heavens,  he  thought,  as  he 
tumbled  into  bed,  just  suppose, 
now,  this  was  little  old  Richmond, 
Virginia,  U.S.A.,  instead  of  being 
Bishopscombe,  Avery  Cross  near 
Wick,  and  all  the  rest  of  it!  And 
at  that,  he  grinned  to  himself. 
England  wasn't  such  an  all-fired 
big  country  that  you'd  think  they'd 
have  to  ticket  themselves  with 
addresses  a  yard  long  for  fear 
they'd  get  lost — now,  would  you? 


ENGLAND   TO   AMERICA          23 

Well,  anyway,  suppose  it  was 
Richmond,  and  his  train  just  pull 
ing  into  the  Byrd  Street  Station. 
He  stretched  out  luxuriously,  and 
let  his  mind  picture  the  whole  fa 
miliar  scene.  The  wind  was  blow 
ing  right,  so  there  was  the  mellow, 
homely  smell  of  tobacco  in  the 
streets,  and  plenty  of  people  all 
along  the  way  to  hail  him  with 
outstretched  hands  and  shouts  of 
"Hey,  Skip  Gary,  when  did  you  get 
back?"  "Welcome  home,  my 
boy!"  "Well,  will  you  look  what 
the  cat  dragged  in!"  And  so  he 
came  to  his  own  front  door-step, 
and  walking  straight  in,  surprised 
the  whole  family  at  breakfast; 
and  yes — doggone  it!  if  it  wasn't 
Sunday,  and  they  having  waffles! 
And  after  that  his  obliging  fancy 


24          ENGLAND   TO   AMERICA 

bore  him  up  Franklin  Street, 
through  Monroe  Park,  and  so  to 
Miss  Sally  Berkeley's  door.  He 
was  sound  asleep  before  he  reached 
it,  but  in  his  dreams,  light  as  a 
little  bird,  she  came  flying  down 
the  broad  stairway  to  meet  him, 

and 

But  when  he  waked  next  morn 
ing,  he  did  not  find  himself  in 
Virginia,  but  in  Devonshire,  where, 
to  his  unbounded  embarrassment, 
a  white  housemaid  was  putting  up 
his  curtains  and  whispering  some 
thing  about  his  bath.  And  though 
he  pretended  profound  slumber, 
he  was  well  aware  that  people  do 
not  turn  brick-red  in  their  sleep. 
And  the  problem  of  what  was  the 
matter  with  the  Sherwood  family 
was  still  before  him. 


II 


"THEY'RE  playing  a  game,"  he 
told  himself  after  a  few  days. 
"That  is,  Lady  Sherwood  and 
Gerald  are — poor  old  Sir  Charles 
can't  make  much  of  a  stab  at  it. 
The  game  is  to  make  me  think  they 
are  awfully  glad  to  have  me  when 
in  reality  there's  something  about 
me,  or  something  I  do,  that  gets 
them  on  the  raw." 

He  almost  decided  to  make  some 
excuse  and  get  away;  but,  after  all, 
that  was  not  easy.  In  English 
novels,  he  remembered,  they  al 
ways  had  a  wire  calling  them  to 

25 


26          BNtM    .ND   TO   AMERICA 

London;  but  darn  it  all!  the  Sher- 
woods  knew  mighty  well  there 
wasn't  any  one  in  London  who 
cared  a  hoot  about  him. 

The  thing  that  got  his  goat  most, 
he  told  himself,  was  that  they 
apparently  didn't  like  his  friend 
ship  with  Chev.  Anyway,  they 
didn't  seem  to  want  him  to  talk 
about  him;  and  whenever  he  tried 
to  express  his  warm  appreciation 
for  all  that  the  older  man  had  done 
for  him,  he  was  instantly  aware  of 
a  wall  of  reserve  on  their  part,  a 
holding  of  themselves  aloof  from 
him.  That  puzzled  and  hurt  him, 
and  put  him  on  his  dignity.  He 
concluded  that  they  thought  it  was 
cheeky  of  a  youngster  like  him  to 
think  that  a  man  like  Chev  could 
be  his  friend;  and  if  that  was  the 


ENGLAND   TO   AMEi&CA          27 

way  they  felt,  he  'reckoned  he'd 
jolly  well  better  shut  up  about  it. 
But  whatever  it  was  that  they 
didn't  like  about  him,  they  most 
certainly  did  want  him  to  have  a 
good  time.  He  and  his  pleasure 
appeared  to  be  for  the  time  being 
their  chief  consideration.  And 
after  the  first  day  or  so  he  began 
indeed  to  enjoy  himself  extremely. 
For  one  thing,  he  came  to  love  the 
atmosphere  of  the  old  place  and 
of  the  surrounding  country,  which 
he  and  Gerald  explored  together. 
He  liked  to  think  that  ancestors  of 
his  own  had  been  inheritors  of  these 
green  lanes  and  pleasant  mellow 
stretches.  Then,  too,  after  the 
first  few  days,  he  could  not  help 
seeing  that  they  really  began  to 
like  him,  which  of  course  was  reas- 


28          ENGLAND   TO  AMERICA 

suring,  and  tapped  his  own  warm 
friendliness,  which  was  always 
ready  enough  to  be  released.  And 
besides,  he  got  by  accident  what 
he  took  to  be  a  hint  as  to  the 
trouble.  He  was  passing  the  half- 
open  door  of  Lady  Sherwood's 
morning  room  when  he  heard  Sir 
Charles's  voice  break  out,  "Good 
God,  Elizabeth,  I  don't  see  how 
you  stand  it!  When  I  see  him  so 
straight  and  fine-looking,  and  so 
untouched,  beside  our  poor  lad, 

and  think — and  think 

Skipworth  hurried  out  of  earshot, 
but  now  he  understood  that  look 
of  aversion  in  the  old  man's  eyes 
which  had  so  startled  him  at 
first.  Of  course,  the  poor  old  boy 
might  easily  hate  the  sight  of  him 
beside  Gerald.  With  Gerald  him- 


ENGLAND   TO  AMERICA          29 

self  he  really  got  along  famously. 
He  was  a  most  delightful  compan 
ion,  full  of  anecdotes  and  history 
of  the  countryside,  every  foot  of 
which  he  had  apparently  explored 
in  the  old  days  with  Chev  and  the 
younger  brother,  Curtin.  Yet 
even  with  Gerald,  Cary  sometimes 
felt  that  aloofness  and  reserve,  and 
that  older  protective  air  that  they 
all  showed  him.  Take,  for  instance, 
that  afternoon  when  they  were 
lolling  together  on  the  grass  in 
the  park.  The  Virginian,  running 
on  in  his  usual  eager  manner,  had 
plunged  without  thinking  into  an 
account  of  a  particularly  daring 
bit  of  flying  on  Chev's  part,  when 
suddenly  he  realized  that  Gerald 
had  rolled  over  on  the  grass  and 
buried  his  face  in  his  arms,  and 


30          ENGLAND   TO   AMERICA 

interrupted  himself,  awkwardly. 
"But,  of  course,"  he  said,  "he 
must  have  written  home  about  it 
himself." 

"No,  or  if  he  did,  I  didn't  hear 
of  it.  Go  on,"  Gerald  said  in  a 
muffled  voice. 

A  great  rush  of  compassion  and 
remorse  overwhelmed  the  Virgin 
ian,  and  he  burst  out  penitently, 
"What  a  brute  I  am!  I'm  always 
forgetting  and  running  on  about 
flying,  when  I  know  it  must  hurt 
like  the  very  devil!" 

The  other  drew  a  difficult  breath. 
"Yes,"  he  admitted,  "what  you 
say  does  hurt  in  a  way — in  a  way 
you  can't  understand.  But  all  the 
same  I  like  to  hear  you.  Go  on 
about  Chev." 

So  Skipworth  went  on  and  fin- 


ENGLAND   TO   AMERICA          31 

ished  his  account,  winding  up,  "I 
don't  believe  there's  another  man 
in  the  service  who  could  have 
pulled  it  off — but  I  tell  you  your 
brother's  one  in  a  million." 

"Good  God,  don't  I  know  it!" 
the  other  burst  out.  "We  were 
all  three  the  jolliest  pals  together," 
he  got  out  presently  in  a  choked 
voice;  "Chev  and  the  young  un 
and  I;  and  now — 

He  did  not  finish,  but  Gary 
guessed  his  meaning.  Now  the 
young  un,  Curtin,  was  dead,  and 
Gerald  himself  knocked  out.  But, 
heavens!  the  Virginian  thought, 
did  Gerald  think  Chev  would  go 
back  on  him  now  on  account  of  his 
blindness?  Well,  you  could  ever 
lastingly  bet  he  wouldn't! 

"Chev  thinks  the  world  and  all 


32           ENGLAND    TO   AMERICA 

of  you ! "  he  cried  in  eager  defence 
of  his  friend's  loyalty.  "Lots  of 
times  when  we're  all  awfully  jolly 
together  he  makes  some  excuse 
and  goes  off  by  himself;  and 
Withers  told  me  it  was  because  he 
was  so  frightfully  cut  up  about  you. 
Withers  said  he  told  him  once  that 
he'd  a  lot  rather  have  got  it  him 
self — so  you  can  everlastingly  bank 
on  him!" 

Gerald  gave  a  terrible  little  gasp. 
"I— I  knew  he'd  feel  like  that,"  he 
got  out.  "We've  always  cared 
such  a  lot  for  each  other."  And 
then  he  pressed  his  face  harder 
than  ever  into  the  grass,  and  his 
long  body  quivered  all  over.  But 
not  for  long.  In  a  moment  he 
took  fierce  hold  on  himself,  mutter 
ing,  "Well,  one  must  carry  on, 


ENGLAND   TO   AMEEICA          33 

whatever  happens,"  and  apologized 
disjointedly .  "  What  a  fearful  fool 
you  must  think  me!  And — and 
this  isn't  very  pippy  for  you,  old 
chap."  Presently,  after  that,  he 
sat  up,  and  said,  brushing  it  all 
aside,  "We're  facing  the  old  moat, 
aren't  we?  There's  an  interesting 
bit  of  tradition  about  it  that  I 
must  tell  you." 

And  there  you  were,  Gary 
thought:  no  matter  how  much 
Gerald  might  be  suffering  from  his 
misfortune,  he  must  carry  on  just 
the  same,  and  see  that  his  visitor 
had  a  pleasant  time.  It  made  the 
Virginian  feel  like  an  outsider  and 
very  young,  as  if  he  were  not  old 
enough  for  them  to  show  him  their 
real  feelings. 

Another  thing  that  he  noticed 


34          ENGLAND   TO   AMERICA 

was  that  they  did  not  seem  to  want 
him  to  meet  people.  They  never 
took  him  anywhere  to  call,  and  if 
visitors  came  to  the  house,  they 
showed  an  almost  panicky  desire 
to  get  him  out  of  the  way.  That 
again  hurt  his  pride.  What  in 
heaven's  name  was  the  matter  with 
him,  anyway! 


Ill 

HOWEVER,  on  the  last  afternoon 
of  his  stay  at  Bishopscombe,  he 
told  himself  with  a  rather  rueful 
grin  that  his  manners  must  have 
improved  a  little,  for  they  took 
him  to  tea  at  the  rectory. 

He  was  particularly  glad  to  go 
there  because,  from  certain  jokes 
of  Withers's,  who  had  known  the 
Sherwoods  since  boyhood,  he  gath 
ered  that  Chev  and  the  rector's 
daughter  were  engaged.  And  just 
as  he  would  have  liked  Chev  to 
meet  Sally  Berkeley,  so  he  wanted 
to  meet  Miss  Sybil  Gaylord. 

35 


36          ENGLAND   TO   AMERICA 

He  had  little  hope  of  having  a 
t6te-a-tete  with  her,  but  as  it  fell 
out  he  did.  They  were  all  in  the 
rectory  garden  together,  Gerald 
and  the  rector  a  little  behind  Miss 
Gaylord  and  himself,  as  they 
strolled  down  a  long  walk  with  high 
hedges  bordering  it.  On  the  other 
side  of  the  hedge  Lady  Sherwood 
and  her  hostess  still  sat  at  the  tea- 
table,  and  then  it  was  that  Gary 
heard  Mrs.  Gaylord  say  distinctly : 
"I'm  afraid  the  strain  has  been  too 
much  for  you — you  should  have 
let  us  have  him." 

To  which  Lady  Sherwood  re 
turned  quickly,  "Oh,  no,  that 
would  have  been  impossible 
with " 

"Come — come  this  way — I  must 
show  you  the  view  from  the  arbour," 


ENGLAND   TO   AMERICA          37 

Miss  Gaylord  broke  in  breath 
lessly;  and  laying  a  hand  on  his 
arm,  she  turned  him  abruptly  into 
a  side  path. 

Glancing  down  at  her,  the  South 
erner  could  not  but  note  the  panic 
and  distress  in  her  fair  face.  It 
was  so  obvious  that  the  overheard 
words  referred  to  him,  and  he  was 
so  bewildered  by  the  whole  situa 
tion,  that  he  burst  out  impulsively, 
"I  say,  what  is  the  matter  with 
me?  Why  do  they  find  me  so  hard 
to  put  up  with?  Is  it  something 
I  do1 — or  don't  they  like  Ameri 
cans?  Honestly,  I  wish  you'd  tell 
me." 

She  stood  still  at  that,  looking  at 
him,  her  blue  eyes  full  of  distress 
and  concern. 

"Oh,  I  am  so  sorry!"  she  cried. 


38          ENGLAND   TO   AMERICA 

"They  would  be  so  sorry  to  have 
you  think  anything  like  that." 

"But  what  is  it?"  he  persisted. 
"Don't  they  like  Americans?" 

"Oh,  no,  it  isn't  thafr-  Oh, 
quite  the  contrary!"  she  returned, 
eagerly. 

"Then  it's  something  about  me 
they  don't  like?" 

"Oh,  no,  no!  Least  of  all,  that 
—don't  think  that!"  she  begged. 

"But  what  am  I  to  think  then?" 

"  Don't  think  anything  just  yet," 
she  pleaded.  "Wait  a  little,  and 
you  will  understand." 

She  was  so  evidently  distressed 
that  he  could  not  press  her  further; 
and  fearing  she  might  think  him 
unappreciative,  he  said,  "Well, 
whatever  it  is,  it  hasn't  prevented 
me  from  having  a  ripping  good  time. 


ENGLAND   TO   AMERICA          39 

They've  seen  to  that,  and  just  done 
everything  for  my  pleasure." 

She  looked  up  quickly,  and  to  his 
relief  he  saw  that  for  once  he  had 
said  the  right  thing. 

"You  have  enjoyed  it,  then?" 
she  questioned,  eagerly. 

"Most  awfully,"  he  assured  her, 
warmly.  * '  I  shall  always  remember 
what  a  happy  leave  they  gave  me." 

She  gave  a  little  sigh  of  satisfac 
tion.  "I  am  so  glad,"  she  said. 
"They  wanted  you  to  have  a 
good  time — that  was  what  we  all 
wanted." 

He  looked  at  her  gratefully, 
thinking  how  sweet  she  was  in  her 
fair  English  beauty,  and  how  good 
to  care  that  he  should  have  enjoyed 
his  leave.  How  different  she  was, 
too,  from  Sally  Berkeley — why,  she 


40          ENGLAND   TO  AMERICA 

would  have  made  two  of  his  lit 
tle  girl!  And  how  quiet!  Sally 
Berkeley,  with  her  quick,  glancing 
vivacity,  would  have  been  all 
around  her  and  off  again  like  a 
humming-bird  before  she  could 
have  uttered  two  words.  And 
yet  he  was  sure  that  they  would 
have  been  friends,  just  as  he  and 
Chev  were.  Perhaps  they  all 
would  be,  after  the  war.  And 
then  he  began  to  talk  about  Chev, 
being  sure  that,  had  the  circum 
stances  been  reversed,  Sally  Berke 
ley  would  have  wanted  news  of 
him.  Instantly  he  was  aware  of  a 
tense  listening  stillness  on  her  part. 
That  pleased  him.  Well,  she  did 
care  for  the  old  fellow  all  right,  he 
thought;  and  though  she  made  no 
response,  averting  her  face,  and 


ENGLAND   TO   AMERICA          41 

plucking  nervously  at  the  leaves 
of  the  hedge  as  they  passed  slowly 
along,  he  went  on  pouring  out  his 
eager  admiration  for  his  friend. 

At  last  they  came  to  a  seat  in  an 
arbour  from  which  one  looked  out 
upon  a  green,  beneficent  landscape. 
It  was  an  intimate,  secluded  little 
spot — and  oh,  if  Sally  Berkeley 
were  only  there  to  sit  beside  him! 
And  as  he  thought  of  this,  it  came  to 
him  whimsically  that  in  all  proba 
bility  Miss  Gaylord  must  be  longing 
for  Chev,  just  as  he  was  for  Sally. 

Dropping  down  on  the  bench 
beside  her,  he  leaned  over,  and  said 
with  a  friendly,  almost  brotherly, 
grin  of  understanding,  "I  reckon 
you're  wishing  Captain  Sherwood 
was  sitting  here  instead  of  Lieu 
tenant  Gary." 


42          ENGLAND   TO   AMERICA 

The  minute  the  impulsive  words 
were  out  of  his  mouth  he  knew  he 
had  blundered,  been  awkward,  and 
inexcusably  intimate.  She  gave  a 
little  choked  gasp,  and  her  blue 
eyes  stared  up  at  him,  wide  and 
startled.  Good  heavens,  what  a 
break  he  had  made!  No  wonder 
the  Sherwoods  couldn't  trust  him 
in  company!  There  seemed  no 
apology  that  he  could  offer  in 
words,  but  at  least,  he  thought,  he 
would  show  her  that  he  would  not 
have  intruded  on  her  secret  with 
out  being  willing  to  share  his  with 
her.  With  awkward  haste  he  put 
his  hand  into  his  breast-pocket 
and  dragged  forth  the  picture  of 
Sally  Berkeley  that  he  always  car 
ried  there. 

"This  is  the  little  girl  I'm  think- 


ENGLAND   TO  AMERICA          43 

ing  about,"  he  said,  turning  very 
red,  yet  boyishly  determined  to 
make  amends,  and  also  proudly 
confident  of  Sally  Berkeley's 
charms.  "I'd  like  mighty  well  for 
you  two  to  know  one  another." 

She  took  the  picture  in  silence, 
and  for  a  long  moment  stared  down 
at  the  soft  little  face,  so  fearless, 
so  confident  and  gay,  that  smiled 
appealingly  back  at  her.  Then 
she  did  something  astonishing, 
something  which  seemed  to  him 
wholly  un-English,  and  yet  he 
thought  it  the  sweetest  thing  he 
had  ever  seen.  Cupping  her  strong 
hands  about  the  picture  with  a 
quick  protectiveness,  she  suddenly 
raised  it  to  her  lips,  and  kissed  it 
lightly.  "  Oh,  little  girl ! "  she  cried, 
"I  hope  you  will  be  very  happy!" 


44          ENGLAND   TO   AMERICA 

The  little  involuntary  act,  so 
tender,  so  sisterly  and  spontaneous, 
touched  the  Virginian  extremely. 

"Thanks  awfully,"  he  said,  un 
steadily.  "She'll  think  a  lot  of 
that,  just  as  I  do — and  I  know 
she'd  wish  you  the  same." 

She  made  no  reply  to  that,  and 
as  she  handed  the  picture  back  to 
him  he  saw  that  her  hands  were 
trembling,  and  he  had  a  sudden 
conviction  that,  if  she  had  been 
Sally  Berkeley,  her  eyes  would 
have  been  full  of  tears.  As  she 
was  Sybil  Gaylord,  however,  there 
were  no  tears  there,  only  a  look 
that  he  never  forgot.  The  look 
of  one  much  older,  protective, 
maternal  almost,  and  as  if  she 
were  gazing  back  at  Sally  Berkeley 
and  himself  from  a  long  way  ahead 


ENGLAND   TO  AMERICA          45 

on  the  road  of  life.  He  supposed 
it  was  the  way  most  English  people 
felt  nowadays.  He  had  surprised 
it  so  often  on  all  their  faces  that 
he  could  not  help  speaking  of  it. 

"You  all  think  we  Americans 
are  awfully  young  and  raw,  don't 
you?"  he  questioned. 

"Oh,  no,  not  that,"  she  depre 
cated.  "Young  perhaps  for  these 
days,  yes — but  it  is  more  that  you 
— that  your  country  is  so — so  un- 
suffered.  And  we  don't  want  you 
to  suffer!"  she  added,  quickly. 

Yes,  that  was  it!  He  under 
stood  now,  and,  heavens,  how  fine 
it  was !  Old  England  was  wounded 
deep — deep.  What  she  suffered 
herself  she  was  too  proud  to  show; 
but  out  of  it  she  wrought  a  great 
maternal  care  for  the  newcomer. 


46          ENGLAND   TO   AMERICA 

Yes,  it  was  fine — he  hoped  his 
country  would  understand. 

Miss  Gaylord  rose.  "There  are 
Gerald  and  father  looking  for  you," 
she  said,  "and  I  must  go  now." 
She  held  out  her  hand.  "Thank 
you  for  letting  me  see  her  picture, 
and  for  everything  you  said  about 
Captain  Sherwood — for  everything, 
remember — I  want  you  to  remem 
ber.'* 

With  a  light  pressure  of  her  fin 
gers  she  was  gone,  slipping  away 
through  the  shrubbery,  and  he  did 
not  see  her  again. 


IV 

So  HE  came  to  his  last  morning 
at  Bishopscombe ;  and  as  he 
dressed,  he  wished  it  could  have 
been  different;  that  he  were  not 
still  conscious  of  that  baffling  wall  of 
reserve  between  himself  and  Chev's 
people,  for  whom,  despite  all,  he 
had  come  to  have  a  real  affection. 

In  the  breakfast  room  he  found 
them  all  assembled,  and  his  last 
meal  there  seemed  to  him  as  con 
strained  and  difficult  as  any  that 
had  preceded  it.  It  was  over 
finally,  however,  and  in  a  few 
minutes  he  would  be  leaving. 

47 


48          ENGLAND   TO   AMERICA 

"I  can  never  thank  you  enough 
for  the  splendid  time  I've  had 
here,"  he  said  as  he  rose.  "I'll  be 
seeing  Chev  to-morrow,  and  I'll 
tell  him  all  about  everything." 

Then  he  stopped  dead.  With 
a  smothered  exclamation  old  Sir 
Charles  had  stumbled  to  his  feet, 
knocking  over  his  chair,  and  hur 
ried  blindly  out  of  the  room;  and 
Gerald  said, "  Mother  1 "  in  a  choked 
appeal. 

As  if  it  were  a  signal  between 
them,  Lady  Sherwood  pushed  her 
chair  back  a  little  from  the  table, 
her  long,  delicate  fingers  dropped 
together  loosely  in  her  lap;  she 
gave  a  faint  sigh  as  if  a  restraining 
mantle  slipped  from  her  shoulders, 
and  looking  up  at  the  youth  before 
her,  her  fine  pale  face  lighted  with 


ENGLAND   TO   AMERICA          49 

a  kind  of  glory,  she  said,  "No, 
dear  lad,  no.  You  can  never  tell 
Chev,  for  he  is  gone." 

"Gone  /"  he  cried. 

"Yes,"  she  nodded  back  at  him, 
just  above  a  whisper;  and  now  her 
face  quivered,  and  the  tears  began 
to  rush  down  her  cheeks. 

"Not  dead!"  he  cried.  "Not 
Chev — not  that !  O  my  God,  Ger 
ald,  not  that  /" 

"Yes,"  Gerald  said.  "They  got 
him  two  days  after  you  left." 

It  was  so  overwhelming,  so 
unexpected  and  shocking,  above  all 
so  terrible,  that  the  friend  he  had 
so  greatly  loved  and  admired  was 
gone  out  of  his  life  forever,  that 
young  Gary  stumbled  back  into 
his  seat,  and  crumpling  over,  bur 
ied  his  face  in  his  hands,  making 


50          ENGLAND   TO   AMERICA 

great  uncouth  gasps  as  he  strove  to 
choke  back  his  grief. 

Gerald  groped  hastily  around  the 
table  and  flung  an  arm  about  his 
shoulders. 

"Steady  on,  dear  fellow, 
steady,"  he  said,  though  his  own 
voice  broke. 

"When  did  you  hear?"  Cary 
got  out  at  last. 

"We  got  the  official  notice  just 
the  day  before  you  came — and 
Withers  has  written  us  particulars 
since." 

"And  you  let  me  come  in  spite 
of  it!  And  stay  on,  when  every 
word  I  said  about  him  must  have 
— have  fairly  crucified  each  one  of 
you!  Oh,  forgive  me !  Forgive  me!" 
he  cried,  distractedly.  He  saw 
it  all  now;  he  understood  at  last. 


ENGLAND   TO   AMERICA          51 

It  was  not  on  Gerald's  account 
that  they  could  not  talk  of  flying 
and  of  Chev,  it  was  because — be 
cause  their  hearts  were  broken 
over  Chev  himself.  "Oh,  forgive 
me!"  he  gasped  again. 

"Dear  lad,  there  is  nothing  to 
forgive,"  Lady  Sherwood  returned. 
"How  could  we  help  loving  your 
generous  praise  of  our  poor  dar 
ling?  We  loved  it,  and  you  for  it; 
we  wanted  to  hear  it,  but  we  were 
afraid.  We  were  afraid  we  might 
break  down,  and  that  you  would 
find  out." 

The  tears  were  still  running 
down  her  cheeks.  She  did  not 
brush  them  away  now;  she  seemed 
glad  to  have  them  there  at  last. 

Sinking  down  on  his  knees,  he 
caught  her  hands.  "Why  did  you 


52          ENGLAND   TO   AMERICA 

let  me  do  such  a  horrible  thing?" 
he  cried.  "Couldn't  you  have 
trusted  me  to  understand?  Could 
n't  you  see  I  loved  him  just  as 

you  did No,  no!"  he  broke 

down,  humbly.  "  Of  course  I  could 
n't  love  him  as  his  own  people  did. 
But  you  must  have  seen  how  I  felt 
about  him — how  I  admired  him, 
and  would  have  followed  him  any 
where — and  of  course  if  I  had 
known,  I  should  have  gone  away 
at  once." 

"Ah,  but  that  was  just  what  we 
were  afraid  of,"  she  said,  quickly. 
"We  were  afraid  you  would  go 
away  and  have  a  lonely  leave 
somewhere.  And  in  these  days  a 
boy's  leave  is  so  precious  a  thing 
that  nothing  must  spoil  it — 
nothing"  she  reiterated;  and  her 


ENGLAND   TO   AMERICA          53 

tears  fell  upon  his  hands  like  a 
benediction.  "But  we  didn't  do  it 
very  well,  I'm  afraid,"  she  went  on, 
presently,  with  gentle  contrition. 
"You  were  too  quick  and  under 
standing;  you  guessed  there  was 
something  wrong.  We  were  sorry 
not  to  manage  better,"  she  apolo 
gized. 

"Oh,  you  wonderful,  wonder 
ful  people!"  he  gasped.  "Doing 
everything  for  my  happiness,  when 
all  the  time — all  the  time " 

His  voice  went  out  sharply,  as 
his  mind  flashed  back  to  scene 
after  scene:  to  Gerald's  long  body 
lying  quivering  on  the  grass;  to 
Sybil  Gaylord  wishing  Sally  Berke 
ley  happiness  out  of  her  own 
tragedy;  and  to  the  high  look  on 
Lady  Sherwood's  face.  They 


54          ENGLAND   TO   AMERICA 

seemed  to  him  themselves,  and  yet 
more  than  themselves — shining  bits 
in  the  mosaic  of  a  great  nation. 
Disjointedly  there  passed  through 
his  mind  familiar  words — "these 
are  they  who  have  washed  their 
garments — having  come  out  of 
great  tribulation."  No  wonder 
they  seemed  older. 

"We — we  couldn't  have  done  it 
in  America,"  he  said,  humbly. 

He  had  a  desperate  desire  to  get 
away  to  himself;  to  hide  his  face 
in  his  arms,  and  give  vent  to  the 
tears  that  were  stifling  him;  to 
weep  for  his  lost  friend,  and  for 
this  great,  heart-breaking  heroism 
of  theirs. 

"But  why  did  you  do  it?"  he 
persisted.  "Was  it  because  I  was 
his  friend?" 


ENGLAND   TO   AMERICA          55 

"Oh,  it  was  much  more  than 
that,"  Gerald  said,  quickly.  "It 
was  a  matter  of  the  two  countries. 
Of  course,  we  jolly  well  knew  you 
didn't  belong  to  us,  and  didn't 
want  to,  but  for  the  life  of  us  we 
couldn't  help  a  sort  of  feeling  that 
you  did.  And  when  America  was 
in  at  last,  and  you  fellows  began  to 
come,  you  seemed  like  our  very 
own  come  back  after  many  years, 
and,"  he  added,  a  throb  in  his 
voice,  "we  were  most  awfully  glad 
to  see  you — we  wanted  a  chance 
to  show  you  how  England  felt." 

Skipworth  Gary  rose  to  his  feet. 
The  tears  for  his  friend  were  still 
wet  upon  his  lashes.  Stooping,  he 
took  Lady  Sherwood's  hands  in  his 
and  raised  them  to  his  lips.  "As 
long  as  I  live  I  shall  never  forget," 


56          ENGLAND   TO   AMERICA 

he  said.  "And  others  of  us  have 
seen  it,  too,  in  other  ways — be  sure 
America  will  never  forget,  either." 
She  looked  up  at  his  untouched 
youth  out  of  her  beautiful  sad 
eyes,  the  exalted  light  still  shining 
through  her  tears.  "Yes,"  she 
said,  "you  see  it  was — I  don't 
know  exactly  how  to  put  it — but  it 
was  England  to  America." 


THE   END 


THE  COUNTRY  LIFE  PRESS 
GARDEN  CITY,  N.  Y. 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


A     000  928  086     8 


